Silver Bells and Breakouts
by princessofthescoundrels
Summary: The Doctor takes River out of prison to spread a little holiday cheer with her! Christmas fluff. River/11. Rated for vague innuendos.


**A/N: So this is my very first River/11 or Doctor Who story in general so yeah… please enjoy and review if you're in the mood! Thanks and Happy Holidays!**

Sometimes the meetings with her were planned, but mostly they were not. There was something incredibly fascinating about the universe when she would suddenly pop right back into his life, as if she'd never left, as if she'd been there the whole time. At first- though he couldn't tell why- their meetings had always been bittersweet. He'd always catch her out of the corner of his eye staring at him, just staring. Until recently, it had caught him off guard; it was always disconcerting for him when someone knew something he did not, when people stared at him like he was some special relic.

He remembered on one adventure not all that long ago when he'd decided to come along to one of her expeditions for lost antiquities. Seeing her in that environment reminded him of those gazes, the one where he knew that she had studied every bit of him, yet was sad, so very sad, that she'd finally found what she was looking for. Because it was always about the chase, about the run. Because it meant that the adventure was almost over.

Their earlier meetings were sad for him too, especially the Byzantium. He'd known all along that her time was almost up, so when she fell into his arms, onto his body, the breath was knocked out of his body for two reasons. The first being that she had, in fact, fallen completely on top of him at somewhat of a high speed.

The second being that she was alive now, not trapped in a computer, not wired up to some chair about to blow. This utterly fantastic woman was back into his life for the second time, and it made him giddy yet nervous to realize that their times together were just beginning.

This meeting today was, in fact, planned. But he'd secretly told himself that it wasn't, for what was the fun in that? The note written in Gallifrayen had arrived in her cell only a few days earlier after determining the note was rubbish and could not be read. She'd only laughed at that, and her guard found it quite disturbing the way she had smiled when she saw the paper.

"Do you understand what it means, ma'am?" The guard today looked young, or at least far too young to be looking after _her, _especially after the stories that circled about.

"Yes," she answered simply, still smiling. "Thank you." With that she began rummaging under her mattress, pinning her golden halo of curls behind her head as she worked.

"Happy Christmas, ma'am."

Looking up, her eyes glowed brighter as she took in the slightly scared young man in front of her. "Same, love, but it's not Christmas yet."

So that's what led her here, River Song, running for her life. She'd known he'd end up far from where he wanted to be, so River had planned on running, packing her celebration heels in the bag she'd managed to take with her, along with a dress fit for the season. The place where she was running now, though, was as far from the season as anything. While the men in turbans chased her, she only laughed as she galloped with ease through the sand. Her worn archeological boots made imprints that were soon trampled over by the men in sandals, and her outfit was brief enough she would not sweat to death in the sweltering heat of the desert.

Then, River heard the noise of the TARDIS, the sound of home. Quickly, she pushed the package she had gotten further down into her bag and changed course, heading straight for the blue Police Box that had suddenly appeared at the very top of a dune. The door opened, and her Doctor appeared and held out his hand to her, seemingly not noticing the three dozen or so men that had been chasing her. River grabbed his hand and was twirled inside.

Recuperating against a railing, she watched the Doctor fiddle with the TARDIS just as the dark skinned men began to bang on the blue wood in frustration. Soon enough, they vanished from this place and were lost in space. It was then she took in what he was wearing and gazed fondly. It looked like the same suit that he had worn when they had first met, when she still went under the nickname Mels. That suit brought back bittersweet memories, but she was sure that the events tonight would erase most of the unhappy emotions that came with it.

"Golly, I ended up in the right place this time, eh?" he smiled cheekily as he took his time going down the stairs. She followed him with her eyes, her chest still heaving from her run. But it was a good burn, a burn that began at her lungs, but quickly moved all over her body. It became easier all the time to breathe, but the closer he got the harder it became.

"No," she breathed out, letting her eyelids drop in _that _way, the way that never failed to get him to fix his bowtie nervously. "You would be the one to park her on the top of the largest dune in all of the desert as I'm running from hoodlums."

The Doctor's smile was fond now as he bopped her on the nose. "Now, who's the hoodlum, the thieves or the thief? What trouble did you get into this time, you naughty girl, and why wasn't I there?"

"I had to get you a present somehow, and being a criminal charged of felony doesn't really pay much, so I went to the drive -thru. Hope you don't mind, being I got your invite with such short notice."

"Tried my best, not my fault you couldn't sneak off sooner." He winked at her and took her hand again, running his thumb over her knuckles in one of his rarer forms of intimacy. Bringing it to his lips, he kissed the road his thumb had made, and then brought the arm to fit into the crook of his shoulder.

"So, was getting me all exhausted before whatever you've concocted part of the plan or…?"

As they wandered through the halls of the TARDIS, he smiled up at the ceiling in wonder, asking himself for the millionth time how he got so lucky. "A good magician never reveals his secrets, but I think it's fair to say that you're much more… relaxed than normal. And if that makes you more willing later well, then, it works out for everyone, doesn't it?"

River's laugh echoed the hallways, reverberating through his body and finding refuge in his hearts. "Ooh, that may be in order."

"I love it when a plan comes together," he said smugly as they turned a corner into what looked only vaguely like a kitchen. The room itself was rather circular in shape, and the various kitchen units and things looked only vaguely like what they did on Earth.

"Sweetie, if you expect me to try and make anything out of all of this, I'm going to have to disappoint you."

The Doctor dropped her arm and rushed like a child over to a red leather chair, totally unacceptable kitchen furniture, and brought it over to her, pushing her shoulders down and indicating for her to sit.

"See, that's the beauty of it all. I will be making Christmas dinner for you, and all you have to do is sit down and look pretty."

"Shouldn't be too hard," River drawled, stretching over the chair and releasing her mane of hair.

"Want anything to drink, wife?" He took three long strides over to the rhombus shaped refrigerator, which he pulled open and began to rummage.

"Do you have anything in there that hasn't already been spoiled three hundred years ago?" she teased, crossing her legs and resting her chin on a propped up hand, admiring his backside as he searched.

He turned around abruptly, his eyebrow raised. "Of course- nothing ever spoils here!"

"Well then, I'll take something strong, preferably with some form of alcohol in it." Her red lips arched into a smirk as she watched him hit his hand against his head.

"Right, you drink besides just apple juice. I think I might have some Italian wine somewhere in the bowels of somewhere, would you like some of that?"

"What century?"

He thought for a moment. "Fifth or sixth, I believe."

She laughed, shaking her head and marveling at what was her life. "We'll see how that goes. Is there anything you want me to get you while you're gone?"The Doctor began to walk out the door, but he turned around to walk backwards and respond to her.

"There's some purple milk somewhere in the refrigerator, and I'd like a bendy straw, if you please." While walking backwards he banged into the opposite wall, let out a noise resembling a squeak, and began to rush down the corridor.

River chuckled to herself as she set about finding her husband what he asked for. The cups looked like they were from the disco age, and the bendy straws were eerily easy to find and too close to the front of the cabinet. She would have to interrogate him on them later. After setting the glass on the table and still no Doctor, she decided to get changed while waiting.

Finding the nearest loo, she pulled out the dress she'd packed, finding a box of hairclips she'd managed to leave behind the last time she was here, and got to work.

"I've found it!" he announced, waving the bottle around like a club, regardless of the fact it was made of glass centuries old. "It was behind the trampoline, goodness knows how that happened…" The Doctor trailed off, taking in the surrounding kitchen and seeing that River was nowhere to be found. Figuring there was no trouble for her to get into, at least nothing potentially dangerous to the timestream, he proceeded to pour the drinks into the glass, smiling at the silly straw protruding from his.

Afterwards, he decided to set out some plates and just get everything prepared. Eating was one of his favorite and less dangerous hobbies, though he never really ate in the TARDIS. Unfortunately, he was always on the move so he never really got to enjoy a home cooked meal. What does one eat for Christmas dinner? A chicken, he supposed. And a few potatoes. Ah well, he had everything; he would just ask River when she got back.

Fifteen minutes later, he was beginning to get nervous. While he'd been traveling with women for a long time, he still never got used to their infatuation with taking extreme amounts of time to get ready for an event that would only take the night. River was usually on time, but he sighed impatiently as he realized her extended absence was most likely due to the holiday. He was pattering his hands against the cool stone of the table when he heard the swish of expensive fabric behind him.

Turning around quickly, he was greeted by the _extremely _pleasant sight of River Song in one of her fancy get ups. "That-that's not from the TARDIS, is it?" he stuttered as he took her in.

She was quite the sight indeed, with the floor length golden dress that fit snugly around her hips, emphasizing their roundness. It was suggestive, as her dresses often were, but the cut across the neck and legs were chaste for the archeologist. The thing he liked most about River's body, besides her hair, unique in itself, was the fact that she wasn't extremely thin. Her curves taunted him, teased him constantly, and he loved the chase. For when he caught her, granted she never really tried that hard to resist, it was always something to remember. The flare at the bottom of the skirt was ruffled, and made the sound the wind  
makes during a storm as she walked. He decided just then that he liked storms.

"That's all you have to say, is it? I worked hard to get this dress!"

She had that look in her eye again, and luckily the Doctor was in a teasing mood, otherwise he might have been cross that she kept him waiting for so long. "Worked? You mean _stole_, River." Picking up her wine glass and holding it out to her, he calmly waited for her to come closer. She took her good time about it, possibly because of the height of the heels, or maybe because she still wasn't entirely satisfied with his reaction.

He waited, and finally she held her hand out to accept the wine from him. Their fingers brushed, and her eyes remained entirely locked on his own, both amused.

"Stealing is hard work. I must've pulled at least two muscles scaling the French palace wall. Plus then I had to interrogate the Captain of the Guard…"

"You mean he interrogated you, but you pulled out the tube of lipstick. You know I get insanely jealous when I hear that sort of stuff."

"Yes, you do get cross, don't you, dear?" Her lips quirked up in a smile as she took a sip, the imprint of her lips leaving a red stain on the glass when she pulled away. She wasn't wearing her infamous hallucinogenic lipstick- he knew she didn't have that color anyway, but besides that, he knew she didn't like to wear it much around him. "You're only half right. He did try and ask me where I was going, but soon he was so drunk he gave me all I needed. Soon enough, the dress was gone."

His swished his tongue around in the general area around the cup to find the long straw. He looked utterly ridiculous when he tried to be cool, and he knew that, but he couldn't help it. "You're going to run into one very cross wife of some lad someday and get yours."

"Sorry, dear, as much as you'd love to watch that fight, I do have limits."

"Yes, you're very funny, Professor Song."

She arched a thin eyebrow at him as he sucked on his straw. "Are we doing professional names now? Would you like me to call you Captain?"

"Oh _God _no, reminds me too much of that Harness fellow."

"You know, I am ever so anxious to meet him, I hear he's lovely. A real smooth fellow."

Placing his glass on the table, he looked up at her through his fingers. While he knew she was teasing, he still didn't want his wife anywhere near a man like _that_. "He's smooth alright."

"Now, now, calm down, Sweetie, I'm only joking. What are we eating?"

He perked right up, scurrying from his seat and over to the cupboards. "See, that's the problem. What would you like?" Her laugh was genuine, not mocking, as she took the seat he previously occupied.

"You mean you didn't have anything planned?"

He cocked his head, looking a bit like a puppy. "I was thinking some form of poultry, I think I might have some potatoes somewhere, and I can dig up a few vegetables if you want."

"As long as you don't turn the potatoes into crisps, that sounds perfect. Do you need help with the chicken?"

The Doctor began rolling up his sleeves and pulled on an apron. It was pink and fluffy, unsurprising really, but River had to roll her eyes nonetheless. "No, darling, I think I'll be fine. Now where is that cookbook?"

The next half hour was very amusing, with The Doctor rushing about flinging knives and flour, somehow managing to get his hand stuck in the chicken, burning three fingers on his hand, and spilling his milk all over the steamed vegetables.

Soon enough, fingers wrapped and milk refill poured, they were sitting around a small mahogany table with the lights on medium and surrounded by a meal that was in various stages of burned.

"I apologize for the quality of… _this_…" he surveyed the table, peeking guiltily up at her.

She shrugged, smiling so wide she felt as if her face would freeze up. "If I wanted to stop you, I would have got up. It was nice to watch, and you tried so hard."

"And failed!"

"Sweetie, you can only be good at so many things. Leave the cooking to the companions."

"You may be right," he grimaced as he tried a particularly black green bean.

"I am right," River replied smugly. "Just don't eat the black ones."

"Will do. So, what have you been up to?"

After chewing thoughtfully on a piece of chicken, she responded. "Nothing much. It's ever so dull trying to keep yourself busy in that prison. All the times I've escaped, it's no wonder that they never let me have anything in my cell any more. Soon I'll be breaking out using splinters from the shelf."

"You could do it. Besides, if you ever need a break I can get through anything."

She winked at him. "You certainly can." He blushed and started eating at a speedy rate to curb his anxiety.

"Hey, why are you so nervous? It's just me!"

Swallowing, he looked up at her. "I've missed you."

"I know," she smiled sweetly and went back to eating.

The empty dishes were left on the table, some crumbs of cake and a few drops of tea were left with no occupants. No, they were in one of the many living rooms, cuddling up against the fire. River, draped around her husband, watched the flames dance and snuggled in his chest with her legs curled up against her sides. The tight dress was stretched beyond its limit due to the awkward position, but she didn't mind. The Doctor, with one arm wrapped around her, began planting small kisses on the crown of her head.

"Thank you for dinner," she murmured. "It's so nice to not have to be rushing everywhere all time. It's nice to have a breather."

"You're quite the cuddler, River Song. If I'd known, I would've snuck in your cell just to cuddle a lot sooner."  
Sighing, she closed her eyes. "You're welcome to break the routine any time you want. Besides, I've only just learned that myself. Never had anyone to cuddle with before."

He placed two fingers under her chin and tilted her head up to meet his. She opened her eyes, smiling in return. "You've got me now!"

"I certainly do!" she rumbled, pushing up a little to press a small kiss against his lips. It was probably the most innocent kiss River Song had ever given anyone, let alone him. She released him to find her husband smiling. "What're you smiling for?" Shrugging, he kept on grinning, his hair flopping more into his face, hiding one of his eyes. She pushed it back, tucking the longer strands behind his ear, even though she knew that another movement of his head would just swish the hair back. "You never asked me what I want for Christmas, Doctor."

"Yes I did, not the same you maybe, but I did. Technically, it came from you, wanted it to be a surprise the first time."

She let out another laugh, caressing his neck fondly. "What happened to spoilers? Now you're just taking advantage of me."

"You think I'm taking advantage of you now, Doctor Song, just wait until later!"

Leaning in and kissing his neck, she chuckled huskily, sending a shiver down his spine. "Is that a come-on, Doctor?"

"You know it," he breathed out, closing his eyes. She pulled back, admiring the dopey look on his face.

"I have something for you, though I didn't ask your future self. Some of us have to rely on instinct and can't go around cheating all the time."

"It must have something to do with Egypt, since I caught you running around there."

"Yes and no. Hold on, I'll get it." She stood up and he did too.

"I'll get yours too."

They walked out of the room with their hands linked, but then separated. River to the bathroom where she had kept her bag, The Doctor to his bedroom where there was a neatly wrapped present lying not-so-inconspicuously on his bed. Why he had a bed, he never knew, until he married River. Then the TARDIS made sure it was one of the rooms closest to the console. Good girl, always taking care of him.

He skipped back to the living room where, unlike before, River was waiting for him. Hers was much bigger, but wasn't as elaborately wrapped, though it was covered by thick brown paper and a rope.

Plopping down on the red couch beside her, he swung his legs around to face her and sat up as if he hadn't just acted like a child in a candy shop.

"You first," he nudged.

"No, dear. I went through too much trouble for you to go first. You have a go. Impress me."

"Alright then," he agreed reluctantly. Producing the package from behind his back, he dropped it in her lap, and none too gently.

"Well, I certainly hope there was nothing breakable in here," she teased, her fingers worming their way through the badly wrapped package. Finding an edge, she pulled until she got to the present itself. Her hand found it first, and she was overcome by the softness of what was inside. Quickly tearing, she pulled out the most exquisite material she'd ever seen.

The soft light of the fire illuminated all of the colors wound within the cloth, and it felt like heaven against her fingertips. "Where did you find this?"

"God knows- Dorium sold it to me. Says it's the most comfortable fabric in the universe. Judging by your reaction, he was right. Do you like the colors? I could only get it in rainbow. Rare fabrics are hard to come by, you know, and you can't exactly choose."

"It's lovely," she gasped, pressing the nightie against her cheek. "I'll wear it every night."

"Not tonight, you won't!" he wagged a finger at her and leaned in, giggling, to kiss her.

"Well, I'm not sure I can top that. But I can try!" She handed him her own present gingerly, which he accepted. She half expected him to drop it, but surprisingly he was exceedingly gentle.

Sensing it to be precious, he took his time opening the parcel. Wondering how she had managed to cross the desert without breaking whatever it was turned out to be a Christmas miracle in itself. When he finally got to the heart of the present, what was inside the carefully wrapped package took his breath away.

"The tea's from China, the paint's from Italy, and the carving and seashells, well, those are from Egypt," River explained as he lifted the stunning blue mug from the box. Painted on the outside of the mug was the night sky itself, somehow managing to put most of his adventures in some way on the outside. Stuffed inside were the best kind of tea ever, the tea from ancient China where it was all natural. Inside the mug, it was lined with a brilliant pink seashell, so clean and smooth.

"How did you make this? It must've cost you a fortune!"

"In debts maybe, I just cashed a few in. Best sculptor in all Egypt owed me a debt, believe it or not. I probably shouldn't have caused so grand a scene when I picked it up, though. Glad to be rid of him, actually. Very grabby." Enthralled at the workmanship, her words hardly seemed to register as he ran his finger over the outline of his police box. "It's very hard to get something for you, as all you ever seem to use are your ship and bowtie. Next year's present is going to kill me."

"Let's hope not," he giggled, gingerly placing the mug on the coffee table in front of them.

"I'm tired," River announced abruptly. "And I want to try on my new present."

"You know I'll just rip it off you," he warned her, standing up and offering her his arm.

"I was counting on it. Just don't actually rip it."

"Oh, River Song." He laughed as he led her out the door and the TARDIS doused the fire. "You bad, bad girl."


End file.
